


People That Live In Glass Houses

by Quietlymischievous



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sally Donovan, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6967378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietlymischievous/pseuds/Quietlymischievous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally is a little more observant than Sherlock initially gave her credit. This idea came from a prompt I saw on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People That Live In Glass Houses

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prompt: "All I need is a brief cameo of Sally Donovan in s5 asking Sherlock if he’s scrubbed the floors of 221B recently and then just walking off while he stands there in shock." (I would link it but unfortunately, I am ignorant of the process to do so.)

“Sally,” Sherlock nodded as he slipped on a pair of examination gloves and peered past her to see the corpse laid out in the room beyond.

“Freak,” she nodded in return. Sally wasn't sure if he’d forgiven her for the part she played in the ‘Moriarty Fiasco’, but Sherlock didn’t seem to have been holding a grudge and they had settled back into their usual routine of slinging harmless barbs at each other. To be honest, she had kind of missed their bantering back and forth while he was away.

She did, however, get frustrated at how he could take just one look and deduce that she didn’t go home the night before or that Lestrade was trying to reconcile with his ex. He really was ‘bloody amazing’, as Dr Watson was so fond of reminding them all. How did he do it? She wondered what she would be able to deduce if she could look at him through his own eyes?

She watched him as he moved his way through the small flat. There was nothing unusual about his appearance. His suit was immaculate, save for a few faint wrinkles at his knees, and his curls were a little more mussed than normal. Nothing that screamed “I’ve been microwaving eyeballs,” or whatever it was that he did when not mucking about on crime scenes. It wasn’t until Dr Watson shifted uncomfortably as Sherlock squatted beside the corpse, arse in the air, that Sally saw it. She finally felt what it was like to be him! Her sharp intake of breath had everyone in the room turning to face her. 

Sherlock looked over his shoulder at her, “Something on your mind, Sally? Care to impress us with your feeble attempt at solving a crime?”

Sally smiled, feeling the mischievous compulsion to put him in his place. “No, I was just wondering if your landlady was feeling better?”

“Mrs Hudson is fine. Why would you think she was ill?” Sherlock glared at her.

“Oh, just because I thought Dr Watson must have you scrubbing the floors of that flat you share, going by the state of your trouser knees.” Sally knew she was going to pay hell for that when Lestrade caught up with her, but it was so worth it to see Sherlock’s jaw drop and the crimson rising in his cheeks.


End file.
